Perhaps not
by GoGobbleGobbles
Summary: She awoke at the beginning of the 74th Hunger games full of regret and resigned acceptance, he awoke full of anger, a drive to win the games stronger than the first time. Stuck in a time loop, they try and keep sane by clinging to each other, though neither is particularly fond of the arrangement, they begin to realize some things run deeper than time itself.
1. Little Talks

_"The time it sticks, Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race."_

This is the conversation replaying itself in my head, and as the victor of the 76th hunger games is crowned I think that we are not witnessing the evolution of the human race. In fact, I think the human race has gone down one or two points in the evolution scale.

The Capitol games, as they were named, lasted three days, and the victor of such games was shaking from head to toe, looking like it was his pure will alone that kept him from pissing on himself as he watched the playbacks.

To be honest, I didn't expect Paylor to make the children fight, I had thought she was above killing children to prove a point. It was during the reaping of these games did I learn from a drunken Haymitch that Alma Coin had everything in action before her death, it was part of the deal to get a few districts on her side, written practically in blood. Even if she wanted too Paylor couldn't of stopped it from happening, you just had to love politics.

Haymitch patted me on the back and said I had finally gotten a childs understanding of the reality in politics, and how proud that I wasn't as stupid as I looked. I poured a bottle of liquor onto his head after his responce. He just ignored me and mourned the loss of his drink, bastard.

In the town square, or at least what was left of it, a few hundred or so people were watching the large screen that was being held by two hovercrafts. Around one third of the survivors of the boomings returned to district 12, it looked so empty now, although district 12 was never anything special to begin with, there used to be some places that held a sort of different beauty.

The hob, which used to be full of people, was now nothing but charred ash, the meadow, a recently turned mass graveyard, other places stood out in my mind, the root from school to the Seam and the stretch of young wild flowers in between, the small tradition that all the younger seam kids would pick one and play with it on the way home, the few hours of peace after the miners shift ended, the barter in town, even the coal that used to be etched on every surface that fluttered in the breeze, something I thought I would never miss was now gone.

The few hundred people who returned were a mix of people from the merchants and those from the Seam, although most were from the latter, there was a strange sense of equality in the air, it had been around for a while now, maybe it was the unity people felt from district 12.

Maybe it didn't matter that there was barley anything left, or that so many people had died, district 12 was home, joined in grief by the emptiness within district 12, a few hundred people compared to the thousands that used to live here showed, the majority of survivors who believed district 12 held to many memories to stand, like my mother, fled to other districts to start again, I didn't blame them.

But maybe it wouldn't been so empty if there was more children, more lucky families who were still alive, people who didn't have an air of paranoia and wariness around then, those still able to feel happy. It was true, most of the people still in this district were either old, by normal district terms, who lived there entier life here, too long to just leave, and those who used to do business at the hob, before Thread destroyed the place, the rest were just other people who stayed for their own reasons.

Usually people kept to themselves, some finding solace in others, most working to remove the bodies, which after a year are finally gone, but it was the first time all of us were out together, I felt some sort of emotion in me, I couldn't really describe it honestly, it was some mixed between bitterness and dread, sadness and irony. The remains of the town center that used to be packed once a year were again filled with the residents of district 12, yet all of us together didn't even fill a quarter of the space.

The reaping and games were not mandatory to watch, but who wouldn't? The tributes of these games were children from the Capitol citizens, the people who found joy in our district children's deaths. Nearly every district hated the Capitol, it was mostly out of revenge that people watched the games at all.

All around me people were talking in groups, it was now night time, but the 'improvised' markets were still open, a cross between the hob and the town ones, leaning more towards the latter. I was standing next to Thom, someone who had survived the booms and the revolution and had returned home.

I remember him from before I was reaped, a friend of Gales who now took to baby sitting me, treating me with a neutral and mild attitude, that was a lot more than most, a friend even. Then again, I don't really think I had the mental stability to have friends anymore.

Ripper's stall was overcrowded with people drinking, Haymitch loudly laughing when the winner of the 76th games finally turned a darkish blue color and vomited while watching the repays, Haymitch wasn't the only one who laughed.

The capitol tributes were extremely shocked at having to participate in their own hunger games, they went insane at the reapings, every one of them was crying and begging, a few trying to flee, no volenters were aloud. Snow's granddaughter turned out to be reaped, what a surprise, yet my throat clenched when I saw her, she looked so scarred.

How is it possible that a girl sobbing as she slowly mounted the stage, with pale pink skin and terrified doe eyes could even be related to Snow? She almost reminded me of Prim...No, I really couldn't afford to think like that anymore.

The area it's self was a horrid one, it was small, just a tiny snow capped mountain, with a small dark forest at the around the base, the arena couldn't of been more than five miles each way, with nothing but a few sparing supplies and a pile of clubs. Entier flocks of jabberjays screamed at every corner, a jacker nest on every tree, and the mutts, so many mutts were in that arena were the things of nightmares, it made my encounters with the wolves, the monkeys, even the half human, half lizard things seem laughable, simple even.

These mutations killed the majority of the tributes in the most goriest of fashions, it was so slow, so bloodily, I was both disgusted and fascinated by them. There was no need to entertain the capitol with a flashy fight and a quick death, no it was all about making the tributes feel nothing but simply agony till their death.

You would think that given the capitol people love the games, vist past arena's and renact there favourite scene's that they would have some idea of how to survive, but a few very expensive lesson's on how to hold a sword and pose with it seemed to be the grits of it.

Few quite skilfully knew what to do with a bow or a sword, yet they knew nothing about finding food or water, first aid... Although knowing those things wouldn't of made a difference during these games.

There was some sort of bitter amusement in this games the small ironic twists played into them, one girl, with bluish hair and talons as chewed apart by some sort of animal, a mix between a spider, a fox, and something with scales, the thing didn't even eat her, slowly ripped her till she was nothing but a pile of bloody shreds.

This was when a few monkey and beaver like mutts joined and started to do this strange dance on the pile, one that looked uncannily like the dance during Finnick and Annie's wedding, turning the bloody mess into a very neat ariel image of a mockingjay, crafted in blood.

There were other little things, such as the tributes facing each other in badly fitting and well worn grey clothes from 13, most almost freezing to death, before dying much more painful and bloody ones, little quotes from Snow were carved into rocks, trees, even the supplies, every single caved saying by the end of the games was either urinated on or covered in a capitols tributes blood.

My famous words, '_If we burn, you burn with us_' were literally burned into the mountain, along with two other tributes.

The games were over after the victor slit the throat of the infamous grand daughter of Coriolanus Snow, who was hanging from two knifes, her body was half eaten, leg rotting from of blood infection and stomach swollen with worms. Merciless, that was what the victory of the 76th games was, the victor him self lost his leg and and half his face, something even the Capitol couldn't fix.

He barely kept himself alive, but he was fast, had a good sense of direction and decent with a knife, he won, but I guessed if the vomit on his face and the tears on his face were anything to go by, he was already regretting it.

I just couldn't find myself to summon up any rage, any anger, I felt numb. I was just fine being lost in my own little world of grief and regret when Haymitch pulled me from it.

Thinking about it though, he was just as bad as me, ever since Haymitch was sent back to twelve to look after me he hasn't stopped drinking. He didn't want to be here, that much was obvious, I knew what he wanted to do, but still, like me, was to prideful, scared even to do so.

The sudden noise around me pulled me out of my musing. All around me in fact people were in some sort of contradiction, a few appeared triumphant, elated even, others angry, but most seemed to be in some sort of saddened shock, Haymitch was the one who caught my attention though, next to a pale looking Rooba, around ten meters away, still on his stool with a drink in hand, he smiled.

He had an odd bemused smile on his face. I had seen that smile a few times, one of them being when I shot Alma Coin, another at the victor tour at district 11. It meant one thing._Well shit_. I turned my head and looked at the screen. Paylor was on the screen, looking furious, reading from a sheet of crisp, white paper with the Capitol seel on it.

"...And as such, from the positive reactions the districts displayed towards these games, it has been voted that the Capitol games will continue every year for ten years, to justify the deaths of our districts children so their lives, their brave sacrifices will not be in vain, those who held our children randsom for so many years will pay for every child they sent to death for entertainment." Paylor nodded with a tight smile and said something else, but I ignored it.

I missed most of that speech, but a few official looking people were muttering, Plutarch seemed to be laughing, I heard him mutter, 'well that was quick' before the screen turned to replays of the victor.

I started laughing then, people were looking at me as if I was insane. Of course, keep the Capitol in line by sending the Capitols children to the games. Plutarch was wrong, we don't have a gift for self distruction, we fucking radiated it.

_' What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the Capitol's cruel and twisted control over us, instead of one final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power, we will make them pay for every child they sent to death for entertainment'_

I had to give Alma credit, the way that last statement was worded was perfect. The twisting of Snows words, the difference between for every child and capitol citizens, flawless, perfect, and all Coin.

I think I have finally snapped, I was on a thin thread of sanity before but thats gone now. Tears were streaming down my face from how hard I was laughing as I tried to gasp for air.

My eyes were glazed over from the screen and back to Haymitch, he looked straight back at me, we are so similar that words are not even needed, I can see it in his eyes, how melodramatic. He grabbed a bottle of liquor and stumbles towards me, grabbing my arm and dragging me home. Ignoring the whispers of towards me, and the mutters of 'bloody deserves it' 'minds gone' and 'It's all to much for that girl.'

I hear Thom asking Haymitch if he wanted help, and Haymitch's reply of '_nah mate, I got it'_ but all I can focus on is the sentence from months ago running through my mind.

_And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies._

For the first few months I was lost in my world of darkness, sit in my rocking chair, eating when Sae came twice a day, after a month Sae and her little grand daughter felt like a crowd. I was lost in my memories, wondering who Peeta was, why Prim was gone, and how I even became a mockingjay. About a month ago I managed to start talking again.

But when the Capitol games were aired, Haymitch dragged me over to town to watch them. He said you voted for them, you got them. I regretted that ever since. He broke me out of my trance, he was harsh, telling me truths I didn't want to hear, and threatened to send me back to the capitol doctors specifically without drugs, that snapped me out of my daze.

I couldn't go back to that place, not again, not back to that horrid place, and without morphing, it would be torture for me, anyone really, Haymitch knew this, hence after few screaming matches and a crying breakdown. I force myself to get out of the house and talk again, I even started to get a little better, but this, I couldn't take it, this was never ment to happen.

He took me home, treating me like a child, I want to snap at him but don't have it in me anymore. we reach the porch, he looks like he is about to do the same when he stops, looks at me with an amazingly sober stare and said.

"I just wanted to get out. Out of the fake Capitol lights and colours. Out of sending two kids to death each year, Out to where I could fuck off and die in peace, so I joined that bloody revolution, but why Katniss, it was all meant to be over, no more games, but it's not, so why don't I just kill myself and get it over with?"

I knew why he was asking me this, I had been pondering that same question myself, our personalities are so similar that he might as well be asking himself, which is why he _was_ asking me. Because whoever said you can't lie to yourself obviously has never had a drink.

You can spin it anyway you like. Snow thought of the games were an efficient way of Control. Coin thought the parachutes would expedite the war, the Capitol games were simply an extra, to keep the Capitol in control, but in the end, who does it benefit? No one. The truth is that nobody gains anything to live in a world where these things happen.

But the fact that people want these games, it shouldn't be even possible. I could check, call my mother, Annie, Pluratch, Johanna, Sae, Enobaria even, to see if this was actually true, fight for it to be canceled, scream and force another revolution, but I knew it was what the people wanted.

If I had just been some extra, nothing but another face with a relatively simple life, not losing everything, family, soul even, to these games, I would of wanted the same thing. Things were better now, why not send a the Capitol kids to a few games? Let them feel what every one else felt. It wasn't as if we were making them send seventy four years worth, only ten years, which to most would be justified. I can see the nods of defence from the districts now in my head, removing guilt from the equation.

So I answered his question, after thinking about my words carefully I tell him something he already knows.

"Because we thought everyone was like us, but they weren't, they don't know the truth, most people haven't lost everything to the games, we have, and almost everyone we personally know also has, but the mass of Panem hasn't, to them, the games were simply a bad dream, they fought to get rid of the Capitols control, watching the Capitols kids get killed is a bonus, if it doen't effect them, why bother fighting it." I smiled at my pun.

Haymitch looked faintly surprised, I'm guess it had to do with the fact that had to be the longest sentence I have spoken since Prim died, my throat clenched but I forced it away.

"The same goes for suicide, we have been throught to much to just quit without a fight, it isn't how we victors work." I ignored the lingering thoughts of Prim, focusing on the conversation instead.

Haymitch chuckles darkly, and seems to be contemplating something, then with a stumble walks to my porch, leans on the rail and after a long drink, gives me the bottle and answered the question I was just about to ask.

"I was planing on drinking myself to death, but after my drinking habbits, fuck knows how long that will take, since I'm running low, Iv'e got to wait till the next train delivery, could of tried Ripper but she too smart, and never sells me enough to kill myself, might as well join you on your quest, so, what's it gonna be, nightlock?" He might as well be talking about the weather with to tone he is using, harsh and cruel as usual, but I understand why.

He has gone over the edge, stuck in between a place of shock and despair, just like me, I take a large drink, the liquid burns as it sloshed down my throat, but afterwards the burn turns into a warm buzz, I take another drink and pass the bottle back to Haymitch.

We fought, we suffered, and we won the war, yet we didn't change anything, so why did we even fight in the first place. Sure things were better in some ways, hell they even were planning on making District 12 create medicine and farming, people had more food and so on, I hear they are even reforming the goverment, picking a few from each district to represent the goverment, or something like that.

But I lost Prim, my mother, Gale, Marge, my life, while not the best, it was my life, and it is gone, selfish as it was I wanted to take everything back. I give up, the girl on fire has burned up, the flame is gone, and replace with a broken mockingjay who never wanted to be a mockingjay in the first place.

Two years ago I would of turned bright red, then lied horribly and snuck around him, if caught I would of most likely accused him of treating me like a child, not realising what he was implying. I smiled wistfuly, back then I really was just a child pretending I was ready to lead a war.

Even if I was just the pretty face, a symbol, I wasn't ready for it, I had too much pride, and was too naive to understand the deeper and darker meanings that went along with war. No wonder why Haymitch smirked whenever I brought up plans of running away or doing something stupid.

I broke the silence with a question I should of asked long ago. "Why did you let me do it?" He raised his eyebrows and said, half sober.

"Which time?" I sighed and said, in a calm voice, or at least something I hope resembled a calm voice.

"Be the mockingjay? I wasn't ready for the role

and all shit that came with it, and you knew it, everyone did in fact, I looked like an idiot." He rolled his eyes and snorted.

"The districts were fooled, the Capitol was fooled, hell most of the dear revolution fighters were fooled, you did a good job infront of the camera kid, thats all that mattered." He said it with some tact, but it rubbed me the wrong way, I sighed, suddenly feeling so tired.

"Thats my point, I was just a decoy, but I didn't know it then, I though I was leading the bloody rebellion." Haymitch gave a bark like laugh and said. "Thats why you were the decoy, the one who was filmed, because you believed it, and it showed on the cameras, you can't act for shit kid, so better let you think your'e running the show, let you have what you want and plan everything around you." He ended by taking a large swig and finished with.

"But maybe you should of, because this wasn't how it was meant to fucking end." He closed his bood shot eyes with a weary sigh.

Haymitch and I have a strong relationship when it comes to the more black and white things. Surviving. Killing. Drinking. Manipulating. Taking down Snow. But when we get into this gray area, the strange place of human emotion that neither of us are good with things start to go wrong.

He is the same as me, I refuse to face lifes minor problems, survival is the first and for most important thing on my mind, his too, when he isn't drunk. And sometimes, existence is too big to handle, so oftentimes, I choose not to handle it at all, almost like Annie in a way.

It's the safest way to be. It's a fucked up world, sometimes life can almost seem like a game. Life is just a series of risks and chances, and for those of us that like a solid footing at all times, we try not to play at all.

"It wasn't nice." I suddenly felt like an idiot for voicing that thought aloud. Life had nerver been nice, and it was a childish think to say. I regretted it. Haymitch barked and said dryly.

"Yes, well neither is anything else in this shithole, so sweetheart, want to see if we go to hell or not?" I look at him, startled for a moment, the belief in god was a sore spot in district twelve, only mentioned really in curses or songs, it was rare for someone to refence religion in that manner.

Apparently god and religion from what I knew about it played a large part in the breakdown of society before Panem was even created, it was around for thousands of years before everyone found out that we think because of two parts in the brain connected by a small nerve. I don't understand how this denies everything about religion, it was very important to our ancestors, why? I have no idea, but I rather avoid that topic, like most people in district 12, it wasn't something you talked about.

So with a nod I say. "Might as well, any last words, any dramatic letters to written, secrets to be revealed?"

Blunt and to the point, formalities and Haymitch didn't really go together.

"Well" He began, taking another long drink, he seemed to be thinking, then said. "Nope." popping the P. He tilted his head and said. "What about you sweetheart?" I shook my head, but I was hesitant, my duty was done, but there was that lingering voice in my mind that screamed at me to stop, think of your mother, Annie even Gale, stop this, it a mistake, I ignored this voice with practiced ease. Then I realised something.

"I think I'm scared of being forgotten, because if I'm gone, who will remember everyone else." Haymitch snorted, and said. "Well, if we die, I guess life gonna have to survive without us." He cackled at his lame joke, and drank away, but I thought about those words. Then Reworded them.

_Life goes on._ It's so obvious that I missed it, people always say _life goes on_, but it doesn't, at least, not like it did before. It sputters and stops at strange times I suddenly think of my being 'fixed' in the capitol, training for the arena, the interviews, it went on and on, doing everything the tributes, and victors have to do, with the life of our family and friends being hung over our heads, so with one last look at Haymitch I ask.

"We were never really free, were we?" Haymitch grins at that, arms crossed and head tilted to the sky, he does the unexpected, and replies quietly.

"Not since we are reaped." I muse on that, then copying his action I too look at the sky, it was mocking me, the night air was warm, and the sky was clear, leaving millions of millions twinkling brightly, I turn my head back to him and say bitterly.

"Well, we won." Haymitch barks and spoke in a amused voice, as if I was a child, I ignored his tone.

"You I both know nobody wins the Hunger Games," said Haymitch, "We become victor, sure, but nobody wins, we live. He dies and not you, and you feel guilty, because you're glad he died, and not you, the one out of twenty four tributes that got to live."

"It is all in the name." He goes on. "We don't win, we are victors, not happy, not safe, but victorious." I raise my head in agreement.

"Only to spend the rest of their lives wondering why."I say.

Haymitch does not answer, but a small smile is playing on his lips. I suddenly remembered that he was a victor too, I focused my eyes on him and watched him carefully, he was still and seemed peaceful, but his lips had a small pained smile on them, I comprehended something, he was my age when he won, the guilt, the questions must of been in his mind, playing again and again.

I had always thought of him as a drunken man who was a prick, but maybe that was what he wanted, to be the man people snort and roll their eyes at, not a man who lost his family at sixteen and has been sending two to death ever since, people never pity him, and I think thats what he has wanted all along.

I think I realised then that no matter how similar you are to a never really understand a person until you are that person, or at least forced into a remarkably similar situation.

"You really are Seam to the bone, aren't you." I questioned him, but I had no doubt in the first place. Haymitch smile grows larger, the replies with.

"Congrats sweetheart, you cracked the code, now drink."

With another sip, I thought about life before I was reaped, it was a simple one, not easy, but uncomplicated, I saw life as a day to day thing, knew what to expect, and was realitivly happy with it, but if I could, would I go back to a life full of ignorance? yes, I would. I asked Haymitch what he would do, if he went back, his answer was a simple one.

"I wouldn't screw up."

It's silence after that, we share the last of the alcohol, passing the bottle back and forth till the liquor runs out and we're both semi drunk, we walked, well stumbled really, to the forest. The high fence was turned off and being preped up with a stick. In practice, it wasn't the smartest plan, we were loud, and it was dark and nightlock bushes were hard to find around this side of the forest, but I was content. It was rare that I went into the forest at night, as it was harder to find for then in daylight hours.

Early spring, that was the old Katniss's faveourite time of day, the woods awaking after a long winter, but now spring reminds me of Peeta, of Prim, of early mornings hunting with Gale, of all the things I had lost. But now the night beckons me, the cold, fresh air, the bright night sky, which no longer mocked me, the darkness, which no longer scared me, the peace, which no longer was with me. I suddenly loved the night, as the day was still to painful to think about, it reminded me of a dandilion, that thinks might become good again, that life will go on, the world will heal, but I haven't, and I can't.

So at Haymitch's yell of triumph, I loudly tumbled to him, and grinning stupidly he held some small berries in is hand. I just speculated our appearence. Haymitch, recking of vomit with bloodshot eyes, and me, bone thin and covered with scars. Broken, depressed and about to kill ourselves, what a joyous pair we are.

"It's been nice knowing you Haymitch." Picking a berry and carefully twirling it in my fingers. Haymitch snorted and said.

"Don't know why, I'm too much like you" I smiled at that, always a charmer. I didn't care what would happen after our death, life will go on. I was going to die in the forest, my forest, home, and I was ok with that, I was broken and my emotions were wrecked and twisted, I lost, Coin won.

_Goodbye_

I could feel my heart pounding loudly in my chest, and I started tearing up, the image of me and Haymitch, dead and being eaten my wild animals crossed my mind, along with how my mother would react, I suddenly felt so selfish, but I don't want to live anymore, it was too tiring, to sad, I was ready to give up, well not really, but it was the most I would ever be.

"Goodbye I guess." He nodded and mumbled something simular. We weren't the hugging type, and after all the shit we have been through that was the most emotional either of a really could get. He popped the berry in his mouth with a drunken smile on his face, I closed my eyes and felt my body tense up, I heard a chocked sound then a body drop to the floor, the thud echoed in my mind, ringing in my ears.

I think I was in shock by then, I hadn't really expected him to go through with this, hell I wasn't too sure myself, my mind was screaming at me to stop, I always hated being told what to do, maybe that was what pushed me to even be here, I was told to heal, forget about the war, I have done my duty and such, but I can't heal, and I didn't want too.

I swallowed the berry in one swift movement, I didn't even have the time to stop, all that I could remember was the sudden sugary taste explosed in my mouth and the nerves in my body stinging all over my body, my vision blurring and my tongue feeling all of a sudden dry. My throat was closing up and the panic started, I heard I strange sound that I realised was me, the sudden erge to stop, the will to live flashed though me before everything turned black, fading into nothing.

**Prologue Completed, and thank you for reading the first chapter and hopefully many more to come, the only thing I ask is that you read the Authors notes, they explain a lot about the characters and the story Plot on a whole, if they aren't needed I'll keep them a line or two shot and the disclaimer. Reviews welcome, constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated.**

**Now last thing, why did Haymitch kill him self in this manner? I thought about it for a while now, and this is the theory behind it, Haymitch lost his family and his girl to the capitol at sixteen, and for nearly twenty five years sent two kids to death, enough to screw anybody up for life.**

**But the thing that is important, as Peeta once said is that Haymitch and Katniss are on the same wavelength, if you think about it, there lives are eerily similar, both are born and raised in the Seam, both lost there father before they won the games, they both were the older sibling and won the games at sixteen, both pissed off the Capitol, both their siblings died... there are plenty more similarities, such as attitudes and personal views, but the circumstances that shaped there lives were so similar that its understandable how much alike they are.**

**So after everything Haymitch has been through, the Capitol games were his breaking point too, Haymitch is Katniss mentor, as fun as dying from alcohol poisoning or overdoes sounds, I don't think he would of done it, he needed that extra push. There is more to this theory, but I'll tell you later on, tell me your own conclusions to this theory, it would be interesting to read about from a different view.**


	2. The weight of Blood

**A/N: Inspired by the epic writer Penelope Wendy Bing's 'Fate's Cradle.' Seriously check out her shit it is off the chain, I am in love. I wondered if perhaps Katniss could go back to the Reapings, what would she do? I have an actual story about this, but here is an AU of a 'could be.' Involving Cato, who thanks to the movies inspired me to think perhaps at the end he did realize what the games where about.**

**I'm a Katniss/Peeta shipper at heart but there is an understandable amount of tension between these two people, I feel that they could perhaps...click under the right circumstances, lets see how it goes then!**

* * *

_"Forgive me my friend, though not for what I have done, but for what I'm about to do."_

_Ragnar Lothbrok."_

* * *

She thought she had been given a second chance at first, selfishly assuming only she had been given, to what she thought of at the moment, this gift. Hope flooded through her body after the shock had diluted, on a train towards her third, though physically first, Hunger Games.

She ignored Peeta's attempts at conversation, didn't speak when Haymitch entered the compartment drunkenly, no recognition was on his face at the sight of her and was calm as Peeta lost his mild disposition to strike their mentor. He muttered something and kept his eyes on the boy, hitting him back.

This is when she was meant to step in, but she didn't, still in shock over the fact that she had been here once before, perhaps the Capitol caught her, this was all just some induced vision. Katniss wondered what would happen if she didn't react.

Haymitch vomited and ignoring Peeta's curses, she lugged him to his compartment, still trying to be calm. She had done this many times before in fact, but apparently here she had not. Washing him was always awkward, he gained awareness of his situation when she pushed him onto the bed, wet and naked from the shower. He looked confused for a moment until she threw some clothes towards him, expressionless as his dressed.

"Enjoying the show Sweetheart?" He sneered, flopping back onto his bed once his buttons where mostly attached. It seemed so real, she tilted her head and thought for a moment as to what she was meant to say.

"Highlight of my life." She muttered dully, angry all of a sudden and for that she was thankful. It was better to be angry than to be scared, she hated being weak. With that she left, falling asleep on some couch she tried to ignore the nightmares that plagued her mind.

She ignored Haymitch and Peeta the next morning, eating breakfast quietly, Haymitch's snide remarks were easily ignored and his snorted. Writing her off as a lost cause, she smiled at this, eyes very hard.

Peeta looked distraught over this and Katniss ignored the pang in her heart, he was dead and broken, there was no longer the boy with the bread and suddenly here he was. Katniss didn't know how to deal with the emotions so she closed them off. It was an illusion, it had to be. This made things easier to deal with. She didn't understand though why she was reliving this scene of her life in particular.

Then again, reliving her life seemed to be exactly the kind of punishment she wanted least in life. Only Snow would think of something so cruel. Still, aside from questioning her sanity it was easy to stay calm, the realism of the situation collided with the fact she had experienced everything before. Like De Ja Vu switched on. Seeing dead faces made her feel distant from it all.

"Relax Peeta" She muttered, the first thing she must of said since being reaped. Peeta's head turns in shock at the sound of her voice, apparently distracted from yelling at Haymitch for a moment.

"I'm sure Sweetheart" She stresses the word as she sneers at him, drink in hand watching her with amusement. "Does not appreciate your efforts to include me." She takes a drink from her coffee, sighing at the sweet, rich flavor in her mouth.

"Of course your included! Its ridiculous that our mentor isn't even trying to help you!" Katniss looks at him for a moment, confused, he was meant to feel for her later on.

_'But then again hadn't he loved me from the start?'_ She wondered how she could of missed the clear distress in his voice, but not for himself, but for her.

No wonder the Capitol ate up their star-crossed lovers act, not on her part but his, the fact that he loved enough for both of them, Katniss felt very sad in that moment, the kind that tightens your body and lets a weight drop in your stomach. It was so obvious, how had she not known.

"I don't need help Peeta, I'm not going to win the games." She says, trying to tell him that she didn't want to win. If this was a second chance, maybe it was better she died, Prim wouldn't die, District 12 would be around, it wasn't right or fair but better than the future she had come from.

"I don't want to win the games." She re stated, more to herself than anyone else, and this was true. Once your named is reaped, the sentence is set, being a victor means nothing other than your life sentence is expanded longer than your tribute at a price, she realizes, isn't worth paying.

He seems stunned at her statement while Effie looks confused. 'Ridiculous' She exclaimed, her wig giggling a little at her sudden movement.'Who wouldn't want to be a victor?' Haymitch is paying attention to her know, a serious expression looking out of place on his face.

"Why not? Your a survivor! You hunt! You have the best chance to win out of any of the tributes!" He seems confused, Petta with his kind eyes looked so confused Katniss couldn't look at him anymore. He knew her from the beginning, his love wasn't born from some mendacity, it was a choice. He choose her and all she did was hurt him.

"Because I had to be Peeta." She says, looking at the table, staring at the wood like it personally offended her, and in a way it had, the smooth, decorative piece probably cost more than every house in the Seam combined.

"I have done my duty, my sister is safe from the Capitol, there is nothing else to do." She winces at the dry tone she uses, her voice doesn't sound like it should. Peeta slams his hands down and the table shakes a little, his emotion displayed makes it easier to close off. She lets him feel for both of them.

"But you don't understand! Prim needs you, how could you leave her!" His desperation doesn't make sense to them, and it really doesn't to her, how could she explain without sounding crazy? Prim...She halts for a moment, her little duck did need her, but she could survive, she was strong, what she really needed was to be safe from the gleaming eyes of the Capitol.

"No Peeta you don't understand, your living in a dream world." She laughs cause its funny, that she would of accuse him of being the unstable one.

"Wining the games means nothing, if Haymitch is anything to go by all it ends with is your family dead and being an arse." She looks and the man himself and his pale face and keeps her voice even, though it is a difficult feat to do.

"I don't think I am capable of being some Capitol whore Peeta." He gasps and Haymitch's eyebrows shoot up, surprised that this apparently hidden information was known to me. She mentally scoffed at this, guessing that telling a tribute of what life they would live reduces their will to live.

If she had known, would she have been so willing to win, probably, but after living through it things were different, she doubted that if Haymitch told her bluntly about what happens to Victors that she wouldn't even understand what he was saying. She would take the warning, but ignore it, after all, didn't they all think that they were the exception?

"Cat got your tongue." She says, sarcasm dripping from my tongue, turning to look at him now, angry at his ignorance.

"How don't you know this! How isn't obvious to you! Think Peeta think! How do they manage to get, what? 73 victors to play the game with a smile on their face at the end?" The table is silent, Effie's mouth hanging slack against her face.

"What, or better yet whom do they threaten to keep them quite! How could they not scream and kill the twits who cheer for them if there wasn't something else at stake?" She is breathing heavily now, and turn to Haymitch, a man who means everything to her and yet nothing at the same time.

She didn't want him to think she was a fool, she wanted him to know that her actions were for some reason other than reluctant suicide. She wanted to have some semblance of meaning.

"The way I see it, the Games are not a punishment but a method of control, balance is a delicate thing, and while fear and oppression worked wonders you need something more to keep going, Hope." She smirks, remembering what Snow once said to her, long ago.

"A victor doesn't win the games Peeta, they are the reason the Games are still going. The small, meager hope that the victors represent stops the people from rebelling against them. Funny how things work, right Haymitch?" He doesn't respond immediately, still in shock she supposed. Then again this view was one formed by Snow himself and she doubted he was inclined to share.

She ignores them as she leaves for her room, taking a bottle of alcohol from the cart on her way, and regret kicks in. She shouldn't of said those things but it was too late, they needed to be said. With that she waits in her room, till Effie collects her and she starts from the beginning again.

* * *

She thought that by this point, nothing could faze her, that she was hardened to it all, though this though was abolished at the sight of Cinna, alive walking towards her. He viewed her, naked and plucked like a chicken before offering lunch, this was when she spoke.

"No" Her voice surprised herself, she assumed standing in front of him would render her speechless, cause her to burst into tears and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn't know who she is, at least not yet. He raised his eyebrows and Katniss was stuck but the sudden urge to explain herself.

"I want to talk to Haymitch before he gets too plastered, it's important." She says, not wanting to tell him that it hurt her, standing before him. Cinna nods at this with some amount of apprehension.

"Are you not hungry? You know that the games do not began till later this evening" He hesitated, she looked down, not willing to respond and in fact not even sure of what she was planning to do.

"It needs to be as soon as possible, without peeta." She looked down while speaking, wondering if she should of mentioned anything at all, she just couldn't handle being in the same room as him, she had watched him die...

After a moments silence, he agreed, calling in the flock of birds to work their 'magic.' There was some talk but she was short with him, focusing on the thought that she would be away from him, sooner rather than later.

A while later, dressed as a pretty pig about to be slaughtered, she waited, ignoring the mirror in front of her. They gushed around her but Cinna kept quite, observing her. Katniss noticed how Cinna was acting differently to her than how if first was with her, that the special bond didn't seem present anymore, but Katniss was okay with this, it hurt less she supposed.

"Your free now, the Opening Ceremony is in an hour and I believe Haymitch is with the other Victors on the other side of the chariot section." His voice was smooth and comforting, Katniss felt her mouth go dry.

"Thank you" She whispered, hoping to convey everything she felt in one word. Cinna smiles and she leaves them, trying to avoid the suspicious looking Peacekeepers as she walked towards her mentor.

She walked towards faces she knew with a frown, ignoring them as she eyed her mentor. It only took her a moment to realize every tribute was still in make over mode, their teams using every minute given. She realized she should be more thankful for Cinna listening, but then again he always had.

They observed her and she did what she did best, acting sullen and unapproachable. Haymitch seemed in a contemplative mood, more so than usual. Chaff and Finick seemed to be attempting to cheer him up and a few victors watched in interest. Haymitch, dark and bitter was usually drunk around now but for some reason he was sober and quite, not something they had seen in quite some time.

That's the thing about victors, they might not like each other, after all, not many pleasant people have won the games, but they accepted the fact that the others understood like no one else could. Another thing about victors, they didn't change, or lose the act, after all, they where always playing the game.

When his newest tribute approached them, an unpleasant expression on her young face, the reaction in Haymitch, his back straightening, his face turning into a growl the few who were paying attention guessed they found the source of Haymitch's behavior, they watched the interaction, curious.

"What the fuck are you here for?" They are surprised at his aggression towards his tribute, snarling at her like a mutt. The girl doesn't react, just leans back on the bar and flags an avox, smiling lazily she replies dryly.

"The refreshments Sweetheart." They don't understand Haymitch's laughter, or how he relaxes, their interest grows. He relaxed because he was worried she would start shouting some anti capitol shit and cause trouble. He was wary of her, still contemplating what she had said previously that left him feeling angry but even more so, empty.

"Relax Haymitch I'm playing nice, you should too." Her mild comment flagged something inside of him and he growled. _Play along_ is what he got from the statement, he watched her drink a glass of what ever capitol concoction was on the menu.

The girl frowns at the taste.

"Jesus even their liquor is fake." Her reply causes another chuckle from the resident drunk, he seems relaxed him her company, they knew each other well apparently. The victors didn't need to know it was the first real conversation they have ever had and one party of it was being blackmailed into it.

"Though Ripper would tear you a new one if she saw you drinking this shit." He snorts, hailing over more drinks of a stronger variety he wears an expression of exasperation on his face.

"She never knows when to stay out of other peoples business." Sweeping his hair off his clean shaven face he seems more coherent than he had in what, a decade? Most assumed he was a mostly lost cause, stumbling around till he died. They were not exactly wrong.

"Please Sweetheart, you are her business." The girl replied, taking a disgruntled sip of her drink. The man frowns at this and responds after a drink. _Play nice._

"True, don't tell Cray that though, Ripper acts like he just preformed a toasting whenever he is around." Katniss nodded in understanding, guessing Haymitch understood that her thinnly veiled comment. Play nice or I will cause trouble.

"Can't blame her though, even old Sae plays nice." She shivers a little for effect, understanding that this created some mystery, that Haymitch was more than just a drunk. Usually he wouldn't give a fuck about what they thought of him but the girl was dangerous, she was playing the game well, it caught his attention and he guessed she wanted to catch theirs as well.

"You would think that the head of the Peacekeepers would frighten you more than that old cow." He mused. The girl snorted and glared half halfheartedly, finishing her drink.

She was very real, not playing an angle seemed to be her angle he realized. He could tell they were interested in the exchange, Finnick watching and Gloss glaring, tributes don't usually present their presence to other districts victors.

They could give away her strengths, and that was when Haymitch understood, she wanted them to see this side of her. It was different than the freakishly dull chick with a quick temper, she was portraying something she was not which would be passed down to the tributes, overwriting their own opinion of the girl who volunteered. It helped that she manipulated to conversation to somehow downplay their district's head peacekeeper. Surely she didn't know that other districts didn't have such relaxed heads? Afterall, there was some safety in being the forgotten district.

"Please Cray? Have you seen Old Sae? I rather be in the Hunger Games than face her after Hawthrone ripped her off." She says, his face grows serious and they both think the same thing, game time. Haymitch is letting her lead, but she honestly has no idea how she wants to play this out.

The only reason for running to Haymitch was to get away from Cinna, she realized she was playing a game and for some magical reason Haymitch was playing too. She didn't know why, but it was instinctual by this point, she never stopped playing.

"Well congratulations kid, your in them, still rather this than Old Sae?" His tone serious and she lets her expression match his.

"Meh its not like this is a surprise now is it?" She says, smiling wiry. It never was and Haymitch seems slightly confused, though I suppose it could be considered contemplative.

"Just didn't expect them to call on Prim, thought it would be most assuredly me." Haymitch scoffs and stares her down. "Please kid you stand a chance, Prim wouldn't even make it to the countdown." They are quiet for a moment. He wasn't lying though surprised he even remembered her sisters name.

"How is your mother?" He says, all of a sudden, the tone in his voice is one that is wary, nervous even, she looked at him for a moment, guessing the angle he wanted to play.

"Wishing you never won the games." Haymitch sighs and looks almost sad, but then again my statements is true, had Haymitch lost instead of Marges aunt things would of been different, she wouldn't of run away from a place so familiar into the arms of a man who lost his older brother in the same games, my father.

He knew the story, the whole district knew, he probably put two and two together after eyeing the token she donned unlike last time was something he noticed.

"Hey you wouldn't exist if it wasn't for the fact that I won the games." He says, ignoring the way the victors reactions to this statement. Eyes wide, a few chuckles and some gasps, after all, they did look scarily similar, attitude as well, they didn't need to know that everyone from the Seam looks like this.

"Arh yes but like everything connected to you, apparently I'm destined to die." Her remark was dry, smiling at the way this played out. "And as fun bonding is with you, I'm going to grab something to eat, any advice before the ceremony?"

He finishes his fourth drink and barks out "Try not to get in a fight, game makers will punish you ten fold for it later."

She frowns and says, "Thought you said it didn't matter, there is no chance of me coming out alive from the games?"

The victors watch, not comprehending. Some of them did have children and nearly all of them had been reaped, it wasn't a coincidence but most trained them to survive, not embrace death.

"Perhaps, but you will regret it later if the game makers make you a target, there are some pretty nasty ways to die you know."

"Fine, I'll try not to stab someone, try not to choke on your own vomit." She sneered at him before leaving, he chuckled as she walked away.

"Horrible kid isn't she? Nothing like her mother." He speaks to Chaff, who is still and not responding.

Haymitch was smiling hard now, he didn't want to play apart of her angle, which is what he realized this was all about. It would spread, and nothing could beat the prestige of having a parent as a victor, even a drunken one, the sponsors would wail in attempts to save.

It wasn't impossible to believe either, her own father was dead, her mother had left the town to be with someone from the Seam, parental heritage wasn't too much of an issue in district 12, especially in the Seam, besides, he had no friends and all of Everdeens were dead, the district was quick to gossip, no one would deny it and those who could probably wouldn't, she had just saved her own life. He needed her to keep her trap shut and if this was the cost so be it, he couldn't deny that with a plan like this, the girl deserved to win.

"But so similar to her father." It was Finnicks smooth voice that spoke, quietly and looking at Haymitch with caution. This was his way of asking, and Haymitch knew the others would listen. He snorted and felt very bitter about this situation, it would not end well if he was caught out. Taking the fence he smirked.

"Please, kid never had a father." His bitterness was not missed, he left then, to go drink privately and they wondered how they never knew about this. Haymitch was quiet as he left but had they seen his face all they would think is murder. Haymitch was going to have to speak with his tribute and Katniss knowing this, doubted it would end well.

**Chapter 6: Little Talks**

* * *

**a/n:Yes, Cato is back as well and no Katniss does not know this, afterall, she slept instead of seeing the reapings so she wouldn't think anything else was different.**

* * *

_Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. "_

_Edna St. Vincent Millayy_

* * *

After being put on display at the opening ceremony, she entered the elevator quietly, not looking forward to encountering a most likely raging Haymitch. As she pressed on the button in the elevator she realized she was shaking.

As Haymitch growling dragged her to his room dread began to fill her. She was used to dealing with Haymitch but that was after everything had happened. He felt no fondness for her now. Ignoring Peeta he slammed the door shut and glared, hate evident in his eyes.

The room was similar to hers, though lacking the stench of alcohol. She sat on the beds soft satin sheets and let her hands run over the soft fabric, calming her a little. She remained silent and ignored the man in front of her, wondering what she was meant to say.

"Nothing to say?" His voice startled her a little, it was harsh and Katniss wondered why she was never able to think before arguing, maybe she should of consulted him before dragging him along.

"You seemed plenty chatty before." He continued, watching her stoic expression he decided this wasn't the way to proceed. She was scared as she should be, but he needed answers.

He observed her now, paying attention the kid was smart. Cunning seemed to be the word to describe her actions, but the lively, snarky kid wasn't real apparently. He watched her volunteer for her sister and was disappointed at her dead response, she was dead meat in his eyes until the outburst.

District kids didn't think like this, especially Seam ones, shoulders curled and subcuming to defeat they were dead men walking. She was too skinny and small but not exactly hard on the eyes, her mind was sharp and her acting skills managed to fool nearly a room full of victors. His anger at being used as a scrap goat aside he felt something else, hope that for once he could bring a kid back.

"What are you playing at?" This got some response out of the kid, a sullen expression on her face her shoulders hunched up defensively, eyes troubled.

"I don't even know" Was her muttered reply, snorting he wondered if a more blunt approach would work, nice didn't suit him and he had a feeling it would just freak the kid out.

"Please your suicidal act fooled the boy but not me." Seeing the anger in her eyes made him feel victorious, he was getting somewhere.

"What is your plan then? Dearest daughter." He sneered the words and as she recoiled away he wondered if it could be possible, though he doubted it, he never had relations with Everdeens wife and had always been careful to avoid such a situation. Any bastard of his was better off not knowing, he wasn't a particularly maternal person and any kid of his would just end up dead in the games, which bought him to his current situation.

"Sorry to disappoint you but pairing yourself to me isn't going to help, Capitol isn't fond of me Sweetheart." His lie rolled off his tongue, it would help actually, he was too old to be any worth to the Capitols amusement, but she most defiantly wasn't.

"It wasn't how I expected it to play out, it just kind of happened, deny it." Haymtich stared at her, her nonchalant attitude pissing him off now actually.

"Bit too late for that." She flinched at his biting reply and took a breath, face empty again. It was a little unnerving to see but, some small part of him calculated, beneficial to being in the games.

"Maybe, doesn't matter anyways, I don't want to win." He snorted and opened his mouth to say something unpleasant but she cut him off.

"Prim was reaped and I took her place, that's it, save your breath and go find something to drink." Bitterly he wondered why his only ever tribute with some potential had to be some suicidal winy bitch. Anger gone, he thought briefly about her outburst, rebellious thinking indeed.

"Watch you tongue or Prim is dead, you know that right?" He decided to let her entertain the idea of death, this kid wasn't gonna die, some instinct told him so, she was too dark, too grim to just die. He would play her angle, he would get her out alive because he refused to let her die before him.

He had done his duty for nearly 25 years, he could not die until the touch was passed on, he wanted out and he knew that this is the one, the only one who could win. Because if she won, he would be free, guiltless in knowing that she was fully aware of her fate, if she still choose to compete it was on her, not him.

With that, for the first time in a long time he had resolution, cause he was tired and she was as well but he was selfish. No one who won the games wasn't. With that in mind he shooed her away and she left, relived, unaware of the determination set in Haymitch's mind. Not knowing the consequences of her actions.

In her bed, she had no dreams, exhaustion taking over, worries of her sanity going away into blissful emptiness.


End file.
